


Survival of the Fittest

by Brumeier



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Friends to Enemies, Gen, Lovecraftian, Major Character Injury, Rakshasas, Rescue Missions, Tentacle Monsters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-18
Updated: 2019-10-18
Packaged: 2020-12-21 13:51:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21075944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brumeier/pseuds/Brumeier
Summary: Lyle was dying. And then John was there, unwittingly offering exactly what Lyle needed to survive.





	Survival of the Fittest

**Author's Note:**

> **Written for:**
> 
> [Monster Fest:](https://ushobwri.dreamwidth.org/250819.html) Mythological/Lovecraftian  
[Spooktober Challenge:](https://spooktoberchallenge.dreamwidth.org) monster  
[Hurt/Comfort Bingo](https://hc-bingo.livejournal.com/): attacked by a creature

Lyle was dying.

It had always been a vague possibility, anyone serving in a warzone knew that, but Lyle was made of sturdier stuff than the average Marine or Zoomie. He never thought he’d breathe out his last alone in the middle of the desert, the blazing sun doing its best to turn him into a mummy.

Lyle had regrets. Even more so when Shep appeared out of the shimmering heat like a walking oasis, a promise of rescue that could never be fully realized.

“You…walk here?” Lyle asked, after Shep had given him a couple swallows of water from his canteen. He hated how weak he sounded.

Shep gave him a rueful shrug. “Ran into a little trouble.”

“Wallace is going…to bust you down …to E-3. If he doesn’t…throw your ass…in Leavenworth.”

“You let me worry about that.”

Shep was a good friend, had been since they met at the Academy. There was no better pilot out there, fixed wing or rotor. No man more at home in the sky. Losing him would hurt, but Lyle’s own survival was paramount. And he was running out of time.

“Can you walk? We shouldn’t linger.”

Lyle let Shep help him up, and the pain was nearly overwhelming. He was broken on the inside; he could feel it. Inexorably damaged. He needed to heal himself, and soon, or another family line would die with him and there were already too few left.

“Can’t,” Lyle gasped. The sharp, metallic tang of blood filled his mouth. “Sorry.”

Shep looked pained, as if he were the one choking on what little was left of his life, but he helped ease Lyle back down on the hot, sandy ground. He didn’t offer to go back on his own to get help; they both knew Lyle would be dead by then.

“Sorry,” Lyle said again, with unwavering sincerity. He _was_ sorry. Shep was a good man. But in the end, nothing more than that.

He closed his eyes, panting in his efforts to breathe, and released his mental hold on the force within him, the one that hid his true form, his real identity. He felt himself growing larger. Becoming _more_. And the pain lessened just a little.

“The fuck, Dutch?”

Lyle opened his eyes, everything standing out in a crisp detail unavailable to human eyes. His mouth was full of sharp, jagged teeth. His hands curled into claws. Even still sitting, he could look Shep in the eyes. 

“Your death will save my life,” Lyle said, his voice gone rough and rugged.

Shep should’ve looked horrified. Terrified. Should’ve been running for his life, or at the very least pissing in his flight suit. But he just stood there, looking at Lyle.

And then he smirked.

“I don’t think so,” he replied.

“I am an eater of men,” Lyle said, gaining his feet despite the agony that stabbed at him on the inside. “The last of my line. I am Rakshasa.”

“You always were full of yourself,” Shep replied conversationally. 

He blinked, and in that tenth of a second Shep’s eyes changed. What was once hazel became a fathomless black, full of dark, swirling galaxies. His whole body seemed to ripple, convulsions that brought forth thick, undulating tentacles that lifted him off the ground and held him swaying above Lyle. When Shep spoke, his voice was deep and layered; it sounded like a legion of voices speaking at once.

“Eater of men? Meet eater of worlds.” Shep grinned, his mouth splitting impossibly wide and showing more of the darkness that was in his eyes. “What do you say, Dutch? Survival of the fittest?”

For the first time in his long life, Lyle felt icy tendrils of fear.

And then Shep attacked.

**Author's Note:**

> **AN:** When I was pondering this theme, I thought…Lyle! I can make him a secret Rakshasa, and John can be all heroic and slay him to save his own life. But then I thought…what if John was something even more powerful? And so this battle of the monsters was born. ::grins::


End file.
